Bump In The Night
by WallWeed
Summary: After Seigaku, Tezuka continues the path to pursue his tennis dreams, but he didn't know the path would be so harsh. If it isn't the commercials he's forced to do for his sponsorship, it's the ghost he doesn't believe in keeping him up at night. But if it were only those things then Tezuka would have made it through the year all right...
1. Lingering

If it weren't for the strange sensation Tezuka had felt last night then he wouldn't have worried about it. The strange humming on his skin, the lingering by his bed, he felt it all although he pretended that he hadn't. If there is one thing that is certain, it is that Tezuka Kunimitsu does not believe in ghost.

Nor does he believe in the demons, sprites, the gods or the split-mouthed woman. He understands why people believe all those supernatural or paranormal things. Either its culturally transcribed or religiously implanted, a comfort or a crutch. In other cases, its the easily frightened or gullible who believe in those sorts of things. Not people like Tezuka. So when his coach told him to beware because he was going to be held up in the most haunted hotel in Germany*, he was only slightly amused.

His coach thought it would be a good place to recuperate for a local tournament that he wanted Tezuka to participate in. Participate isn't the right word considering it was a tournament for early elementary students. Despite being Japanese, he was beginning to have name-recognition with the German people. Especially after he was featured on a local sports channel. It was supposed to be a small promotional for a real upcoming tournament he was entering at the time. Strangely enough he became popular with the children watching the channel during the kids hour.

Tezuka was ashamed to posing with Elard the Dormouse on a commercial or two for the channel. Internally he had hoped that no one back in Japan would happen to witness such an embarrassment. Especially since he had to perform skits for the short twenty second commercials between the tennis centered cartoons. The skits usually contained horrendous tennis puns that even after Tezuka's extensive knowledge of the German language, could not decipher. It was only after he had asked his coach about the skit- a skit that the coach found quite humorous- did he realize the extent of the uninspired corporate pandering humor that was being used. And to think that he starred, along with Elard the dormouse- in such a thing. For thousands to see...

So when his coach warned him that he was entering the most haunted (more or less) hotel in all of Germany, he was hardly alarmed. Some imaginary ghost was the least of his worries. What he had to worry about was the hundreds of times that commercial has aired in front of the thousands of eyes watching. The sing-along was bad enough but the rap battle? It was too much for him!

As Tezuka laid in his bed tossing a tennis ball in the air, he couldn't stop contemplating the oncoming humiliation of the upcoming kids tournament he was suppose to make an appearance in. To give a speech in front of the entire arena about friendship and endless effort-concepts he was a strong believer in- but then he is to be stopped by that walking rodent Elard who confronts him, saying that _he_ is the ambassador of friendship. The two will then argue lines like: _Only I know the depths of friendship! _And _It burns in my heart. _

Tezuka cringed at the thought of it. If he had known that a simple promotional commercial would spiral into karaoke-cause you know, he's Japanese- and a straight-to-DVD release, then he would never have agreed. Unbeknownst to the German people, Tezuka Kunimitsu is not the fun-loving-goofy-Japanese that can swing a racket like he's been portrayed to be.

The real Tezuka is more somber than that. He enjoys reading and intentional silence. He doesn't need all the extra attention. In his hotel room, he couldn't take it anymore. He needed air. There was a tennis court nearby that he saw on the drive there. He hasn't explored that many areas in the new city and he wasn't looking to become lost. The court was only a block or so away so he wasn't in any imminent danger. He gave the ball one last toss into the air and caught the sight of the ball momentarily pausing in its stride.

He gasped and sat up immediately. He knew that he had quick reflexes from his training but he was unaware of how quickly he could shuffle into the pillows and headboard. The ball dropped back onto the bed from its momentary freezing and bounced off. Even after it rolled to a still, Tezuka was too fearful to touch it. He studied his hand, wondering what just happened. For a moment he wondered if he had imagined it.

He even examined his glasses and cleaned them. As he rose from his bed, he was cautious about tip-toeing around the ball. He sighed. In the bathroom he dressed for his leaving. It was in the late afternoon, the sky was stretching into a dark crimson orange. It would soon be blending into a twilight. The street lights had already turned on and he knew that there would be enough light to see his way.

He focused on his jacket as he tried it on. It was a dark black with a leather finish. It wasn't exactly his style but the coach insisted on it. He looked himself in the mirror and glanced over his hair. Something he never concerns himself with. The hotel was a nice one. Large bed, silk curtains, Persian carpets and a bathroom with deep tub and three sinks despite being a singles room.

As he ran the zipper up along the path to his neck, he came to notice that his hand was trembling. He had exhale deeply and looked himself in the mirror before leaving. The air in the room had changed. He wondered if it was he had become strange for even contemplating what had just happened as anything but an illusion, a trick of the light.

The walk there wasn't that difficult. A straight and narrow road led to a simple clay court. He was curious as he's only played on hardcourts and the occasional grass court. He stamped his foot onto the court just to feel it. It was too bad that he wouldn't be playing on it. There was no one around to practice with or to pick up balls. He only had two on him. He needed a stone wall to go against.

Despite being within a blocks distance from the five-star hotel. This park-if it could be called a park- was surprisingly dirty. Litter coated the base of the trashcan, the metal benches were stained and rusted, even the net was in poor condition with holes and tears.

He paced through the park. There was only a court with a few benches. That was all. However, there was a concrete wall as a part of the back of a building that was beside the court. Under a street light positions beside the building, he began practicing.

Tennis always had a way of clearing his mind. Although, as he felt the fuzzy material of the ball, the stiffness of the ball in his room came to mind. The way it just froze. Just stopping all momentum as if someone had caught it and then just dropped it again.

He released the ball from his grip for only a second before banishing the thought with the swing of a racket.


	2. Emerging

When Tezuka had come back to his room, the ball still lingered on the floor where it had been left. That's good. Of course, it was there though. Where else would it have been? He went to the showers. During his practice, he worked up quite a sweat.

While he was there, he heard a few childish calls. The voices were small and high and when he glanced over to them he saw a group of three children. Two of them were boys.

"Hey looks its Kunimitsu Tezuka!" one of the boys shouted. The other boy's eyes widened and started shouting.

"It's Tezuka!"

Tezuka sighed and turned his gaze back to what he was doing, tossing the ball high into the air before giving a hard serve. The kids cheered at his serve and shouted some more to him. However, their cheers died down as Tezuka was not responding to their questions.

"Are you really that good at tennis?"  
"Do you like sushi?"

"Where's Elard?"

Tezuka didn't lift his eyes to them as he was preparing another serve.

"Hey Tezuka!" the girl shouted. It's not that Tezuka dislikes children, he just doesn't enjoy their company. Children can have their roles, like Miyuki. He can fondly recall her and her courage. If it hadn't been for her, he may not have overcome his yips. But these kids, don't know who the real Tezuka is. They aren't talking to him. They are talking to the Tezuka Kunimitsu that laughs and does goofy dances and tells corny jokes. They probably wouldn't even be interested in the real Tezuka. The kids soon tired of him and made their weary way down the road. He had to admit that he was relieved.

In his room, he readied himself for bed. He hadn't seen the coach and wouldn't see him until tomorrow. He needed to talk to him about his growing reputation. His peeled of his jacket and clothes and took a dip into the bath water for a soak.

In the water, his mind drifted away. He is not one to daydream but he couldn't help but reminisce about the past. The swooning cherry blossom trees of Seigaku looming over the tennis courts. He leaned his head back against the wall, his hair steaming and clinging to his damp skin. He wondered how the team did after he left. He never really was able to keep up with them after his departure. It has already been three years or so since he graduated middle school.

He decided not to go to high school, rather to pursue his tennis dreams. Oishi, Kikumaru, Fuji, Kawamura, Inui, he hadn't heard from any of them since. Well, Oishi has sent a few emails messages on occasion, a picture or two of him in front of Seigaku high. One with a girl too.

He imagined Momoshiro, Kaidoh and Echizen. He heard that they didn't make it to the Nationals. Rikkaidai won for their fourth time. They just couldn't get the guys on a high enough level to compete. Although Oishi told him that Arai was able to pull off a heart-stopping match. 7-6 score against a St. Rudolf member.

After that he isn't really aware of what's been happening at Seigaku. Echizen naturally became the captain after Kaidoh's departure and from Oishi, Tezuka has heard that some other super-rookie appeared from the dawn.

With the mist surrounding him in a heavy warmth, he emerged from the bathroom. A robe customary of the hotel was all he wore. When he had come out, he thought he felt his hair raising as he saw the ball sitting neatly on the sheets of his bed.

_What?_ He stood there completely bumfuzzled by this. Was someone in his room? He surveyed the door, it was still double locked. Through the peephole, no one stood. He leaned away from the glass hole and turned back to his bed. This was such a strange occurrence.

He didn't bother to even entertain the thought that the room was actually haunted. That still was just nonsense. Besides, it could have easily have been some hotel staff who had come into the room. Although they usually would only do that when the person checks out or upon request, it was still possible.

He immediately recalled the strange lingering he felt the night before. The heavy presence he felt beside him the entire night like someone had been looming over him. He even was started at the feeling of a hand taking a long and sensual stroke down his back.

No, there he went entertaining the idea. He shook his head only slightly and returned to the bed, taking the tennis ball with his hand and moving into the table-desk drawer. Just then he jumped at the shrill ring of the desk phone beside him. As his hand skimmed over the smooth black of the handle, he flinched. Something over rode him for a moment and he was overwhelmed with the feeling of trouble. Not danger, just trouble. He let it ring.

A/N:

So apparently when I put this up it became encrypted. I will try to watch out for that!


	3. Meeting

Tezuka awoke to a knock at the door. Upon seeing the sheer illumination of the room, he knew that it was late morning. He pushed himself off his chest onto his elbows. The sunlight through the windows had a lazy yellow haze. He was surprised that he had slept in so late. He usually wakes in the early morning when the dark blue sky is still out.

The knocking persisted. "Kunimitsu, are you in there?" It was the coach. "Are you in there?" he called. It was definitely the coach. He has a very distinctive deep voice. "If you're in there get up and have some breakfast. Don't forget we have a meeting this morning"

Tezuka sighed grabbing his glasses by the levers. He did forget, or atleast didn't remember if that makes any difference. He readied himself in his room. That night he felt that strange lingering over him again. A fog so thick and heavy that he couldn't bear to lift his head to see. He thought of it as a haze of grogginess as he sat up in his bed. A haze was a good way of describing it. He felt it spreading over his neck like breath. He tried not to recall the eerie experience as he sat upward on the bed. The room was relatively sterile as he hadn't yet touched most of it.

Out in the dining area, there were tables spread with white clothes draped over them. Gold adornments and wooden finishes on the furniture. A Persian rug spanded the ballroom size room. Across the room, he saw his coach sitting with liverwurst, rolls and jam in front of him. Tezuka himself wasn't hungry but he knew it would be in his best interest to eat.

As he sat down across from the coach, who was gobbling down the jam and rolls, rolled his eyes up from behind his sunglasses. "Oh, there you are" he said. He thin moustache twitched as he smiled. Tezuka himself, didn't take much food, only a single bread roll and a slab of jelly. The coach seemed to have noticed this and quickly slapped a thin slice of his liverwurst onto his plate.

"You gotta eat a bit more" He smiled, "Now that you're here, we've got to talk". Leaning over to the side, he was reaching down to some suitcase by his side. His voice was a little jargled as he was still eating. From the case, he withdrew a manilla envelope.

"Why don't you take a look at this" he slid it in front of him.

"Does this have to do with the meeting?"

"No, this is actually about a sponsorship"

Tezuka's brow rose. "A sponsorship" he repeated. Who would be sponsoring him now? The Sports Channel already is sponsoring him. Maybe Seigaku has something to do with it. He initially got a grant from the school when he went in pursuit of a a career in tennis. It covered his travel fees and hotel stays. He still received a lump sum for the first two years and this is his last year for it. But now that he's been accepted into the German program, he doesn't have to worry about money too much right now. Still, any sponsorship is welcome.

"Yeah, actually- Hey!" The coach suddenly turned to his side where some man in a suit approached him. "Jonas, how have you been?" the coach greeted him, "It's great seeing you" he pushed the papers aside.

Tezuka leaned back as the two spoke in German. He could follow most of it, a simple game of catch-up and short talk. There was the occasional spoken word or phrasing that he was unfamiliar with. He tries to remember them so as to look them up and study them later.

The coach seemed to have completely forgot that he was there. The two seemed to be friends or acquaintances at least. Tezuka took a bit of his bread. The man, Jonas, joined them at the table and Tezuka began to wonder how long the coach would be preoccupied with this. He took a glance down at the papers a few inches in front of him. He had to crane his neck just to catch a glimpse of it under the coach's large hand.

He couldn't catch the name of the organization or business from beneath his sprawled fingers. "Excuse me" the three lifted their heads immediately to the female server who had just spoken. "Yes, there is a call for a Tezuka Kunimitsu"

Tezuka glanced between the coach and his friend before getting up and allowing the woman to guide him there. On the wall, there were large black phones. She took him to one and he lifted the receiver.

"Ah, there you are Tezuka"

Tezuka was immediately surprised to be hearing spoken Japanese for the first time in months.

"Yes, who is this?" Tezuka asked. Speaking Japanese again felt strange to the lips but much more natural. He was a little more conscious to the language change as he saw the female server peeking over through his peripheral vision.

"Oh, you can't recognize the voice of great Atobe?" Tezuka was confused as to why Atobe would be calling him all of a sudden. He hasn't seen him in three years. Not once have they spoken through email or call even.

"Why are you calling?" He asked. He was very close to just lowering the receiver and ending the call right there. He really didn't want to waste time when he has a sponsorship and a meeting to be concerned with.

"Hmm? What does that mean? Aren't you at least the slightest bit overjoyed to hear from an old frie-" Tezuka hung up. No, he wasn't overjoyed, or even merry. He has never particularly liked Atobe. He has been caught up in his own haughtiness and is always in a state of flamboyance.

Besides, on the way to Nationals, it was Atobe who purposely tried to destroy his future. During their Hyotei vs Seigaku match, he drew out the match solely for the purpose of ruining his shoulder. What type of person does that? After Seigaku won, the team occasionally spent time with the Hyotei members. It was as if any hostility between the two teams dissolved as soon as the matches ended. It's strange how that happens. Especially since, in Atobe's case, he had heard from a Oishi, who heard from Momoshiro, that Atobe was hassling the younger sister of Tachibana, the captain of Fudomine. Although he bears any residual anger for him, he does remain cautious of him.

"Who was that?" the coach asked when Tezuka rejoined the table.

"No one" he responded. He couldn't help but notice that the liverwurst that was on his plate somehow ended up on the plate of the coach's friend. He didn't say anything and he didn't sit for long as the coach stood looking at his watch.

"Ah, it's about time we go, Kunimitsu" Tezuka nodded and stood again. "Okay and then after the meeting, I can talk to you about the sponsorship" The coach said.

The way there isn't far, only about forty-five minutes away. The coach was driving. His name was Niklas and he wasn't just his coach. Niklas also worked as his manager. They usually traveled together and stayed where it was convenient.

The meeting place was a casual building with tennis courts out a few yards away. It was sunny and the building had a cafe out front. Men in suits were seated inside behind large windows. Inside the building, the air conditioning was humming and chilled Tezuka's bare arms when they entered. The men waved over when they saw them. With the coach taking the lead, Tezuka followed and sat beside him.

"We're glad you came. Now, let's start talking but before we do, is there anything you want?" One of the men asked, he had burly white eyebrows and blue eyes so pale it was predatory. The suit beside him had a gold ring and a red hair slicked back. He was maybe in his forties but the wrinkles under his eyes somehow made him seem younger.

"No, no, thanks. We just ate" the coach said. Tezuka just remained silent. The men laughed despite no joke being told. The man with the cold eyes turned to Tezuka.

"How are you doing today?' he asked, his fingers laced together.

"Fine" he answered. Coach nudged him in the side. "I'm very well" he corrected himself.

"Well that's good" the other man responded. "Say, Kunimitsu, are you excited for the tournament coming up?" he asked. His eyes were eager.

Well, the answer depends on what tournament he was referring to. The legitimate tournament or the one for the kids? He had no interest in the latter.

"Oh, he's very excited" the coach quickly responded. "He talks about it all the time"

"Fabulous!" the red haired man said with his hands clasped together. Tezuka couldn't help but side eye his coach. What did he think he was doing? He never once said anything about it to him. Especially nothing positive.

"That's great. After all, you have become very popular with the kids these days. We were thinking of offering you a role on Elard's Electric World" _Elard's Electric World?_ What the hell was that? Tezuka's brow rose ever so slightly.

"Elard's Electric World?" The coach asked. He was just as curious.

"Yes, Elard the Dormouse has a few side series and Elard's Electric World is starting to film for its second season and we are considering hiring Kunimitsu here for a supporting role" Tezuka was almost shaking his head. No way. No way was he doing this. No way in hell was he going to humiliate himself further.

"That's sounds great" the coach says.

"Yes, yes. The first season was highly successful and we believe that this would be a good way to get publicity" the redhead said as he withdrew some papers from his bag. There were images on them of that bastard Elard encompassed by an electric glow.

"It's a short series, only 15 minutes long and it airs between the main series" He showed an image. In it, Elard had a tennis racket and electricity pulsed through his fur and his eyes beamed in passion. In the other images, it would be a baseball bat or a soccer ball.

"What type of role is it?" The coach asked. Tezuka couldn't even believe that he was asking when there was no possibility of him playing the role.

"Well it is much like the roles Tezuka has already played with Elard" The redhead smiled, a gold tooth twinkling in Tezuka's eye. "You will play Elard's friend but rival in passion" _Passion? _That's not what he'd call it. That fat bastard in the costume doesn't care about any of it. Every time they went on break, Gerhardt, the man behind the Elard costume, smoked a cigarette and rubbed at his sweaty balding head while slewing a sling of profanity.

"Except this season we want to do a Japanese theme" he showed a slide with sakura and Tezuka in a kimono. It was wrapped the wrong way like the dead. His tennis racket was decked out to look like a katana. Tezuka was quite aghast. His eyes twitched like he was being overcome by some demonic force.

"Wow! This is pretty cool. Isn't it?" The coach had turned to Tezuka.

"By the way, have you ever considered baseball?" the redhead asked.

"What?" Tezuka was able to ask.

"Baseball is more popular in Japan than tennis. We want this to be as Japanese as possible"

"Oh, I see. Yeah, did you ever consider having some Kaiju in there like Godzilla?" The coach asked, leaning in. The redhead in turn, leaned back with a hand on his chin. "Well Godzilla has a copyright but we actually do have something like that planned for episode five"

They were interrupted by Tezuka rising from the table.

"Kunimitsu?" The entire group silenced. Tezuka didn't have time for this.

"I already agreed to participate in the kid's tournament. I don't plan on doing anymore ridiculous acting or roles. If it doesn't involve advancing my tennis then I am not interested" he said to the coach's horror. Tezuka didn't concern himself with it and detached himself from the group. As he left, he could hear shuffling and the coach saying, "I'll be right back, excuse me"

He could hear heavy footsteps gaining on him and he could take an educated guess as to who it was. Tezuka couldn't say that didn't quicken his pace as he passed by the people in their tennis polos and visors. Before stepping passed the hard shadow of the building into the outer sunlight, he felt the coach grab him by the shoulder and pushed his back into the wall.

"Hey, didn't you hear him calling you? What are you doing?" he asked, his were frenzied behind his sunglasses. "Do you realize who those people are?" he asked, inches from his face. Two women were coming around the corner that Tezuka was being pressed into. The women paused, looking concerned and the coach back up. He hushed himself until they passed.

When the eyes of others turned away, the coach recollected himself. 'Kunimitsu-"

"Tezuka"

"What?"

"Call me Tezuka. I prefer to be called Tezuka"

"Okay, okay. Yeah. But do you know what those people can do for you" The coach leaned in again, his voice low. Tezuka clenched his jaw. He didn't want this. This is not what he was expecting when he set off to Germany. Dancing with a giant mouse-an electric mouse at that. Ridiculous.

"I don't want to do this"

"Stop being a child. I know you're just seventeen but you are basically an adult"

"Coach, I didn't come to Germany to be fool around"

"Kunim- Tezuka, do you realize how much smoother this will make your career. Yeah, I know you don't like acting and what not, but the publicity you are getting will make your career"

"Yes, it will make me a joke" he snapped back, inwardly fuming.

"Tezuka" he softened his grip on his shoulders. "I know this may be hard right now, but trust me. I am looking out for you. I wouldn't advocate something that I thought would hurt your image. These things just make you more likeable in the public arena"

Tezuka just turned away, he did trust him to some extent.

"Tezuka you are very accomplished in tennis. In Japan. But if you want to be a star international player, you need to get your name out there and be backed" Tezuka couldn't argue. He did need to get his name out there and he does need the money and other benefits. He closed his eyes, he could feel the wall behind him against his cheek.

"So, are you ready to go back in there?" the coach whispered. Tezuka just relaxed his shoulders and exhaled. They probably have kept the two men too long and Tezuka suspected that they were still in sight.

"I'm sorry for the rudeness. Please accept my apology" Tezuka said as he bowed to the men when they approached the table. The redhead looked well pleased and the silver haired man remained stoic.

"It's no problem" the redhead said, pushing some papers forward. Tezuka was in a daze for the rest of the meeting. Papers were signed, pens were clicked, smiles had, Tezuka felt his head spinning. But either way, his name was in permanent ink at the bottom of the page.

The men soon left looking triumphant. Tezuka rubbed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. The force of the coach's slap on the back, forced a couch out of him. "Thank you for being so cooperative. I know it must be hard on you" Tezuka didn't respond.

"Okay, why don't you just take a break. We can talk about the sponsorship back at the hotel" he said leaving the table. Tezuka sighed in relief at his departure and dismay and the oncoming situation.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting there. He rolled his head back against the back of the chair. He almost covered his face with his hands. As he sat there a woman approached him, another server, "Excuse me sir, but there is a man waiting for you in the cafe area.

What already? Tezuka barely got anytime to focus or to shut down. He was still haunted by the paperwork he had just completed. His signature loomed over him in a bloody red ink. The woman guided him with her arms to the cafe area. She just directed him there but didn't escort him there.

As he walked to where he thought the coach would be, he was blinded by the sun's sudden brightness. It was early afternoon after all. The white of cafe chairs and tables just made the sun's reflection more intense to him. He had to shield his eyes.

"Oh, can't bear to see me, can you?"

Tezuka tilted the hand that was covering his eyes back just to see who's voice that was. It was Japanese. When his eyes adjusted, he was in total disbelief to see Atobe Keigo sitting nice and comfy in a cafe chair in front of him.


	4. Reunion

Bewildered was not the word to describe what Tezuka was experiencing when he realized that Atobe Keigo was the man waiting for him. He even had to squint his eyes to really make sure.

"You're very rude Tezuka. First you hang up on me and now you're just staring. But I understand, it's hard to look away from a masterpiece" he replied with a cocky grin, the mole under his eye even grinning.

"What are you doing here Atobe?" Tezuka asked. He could not phantom a reason as to why Atobe would be in Germany of all places. Atobe just smirked and took a long drink from a tea cup.

"Hmm? Not even an apology" he lowered the cup. "But you've never been the compassionate type" Atobe rolled his eyes up to Tezuka but he wasn't having it. Tezuka went to turn away and felt his wrist pulled. He followed his wrist to Atobe's hand and followed the curvature of his arm to Atobe's still smirking face. "Come on, sit down"

Despite asking him to sit, Atobe didn't speak immediately. In the meantime, Atobe had ordered a drink for him. Something fruity that Tezuka didn't request. He drank it nonetheless when the waitress appeared with it.

"You are probably wondering why I am here" Atobe said plainly, but almost this had an air of importance. Tezuka wondered what could have ever made giving him the impression that he was curious. Was it because he had asked? No, Atobe must just be psychically attuned.

Tezuka didn't reply, rather waiting for Atobe himself to fill in the blanks. "Way out here in Germany of all places" he continued. "You wouldn't know this but I actually am studying abroad at Diedrich Anton Academy" he said, pointing his thumb back at a building peeking out over the tops of some nearby construction. By the pause after his speaking, Tezuka assumed he had expected some sort or reaction. He would have to try harder than that.

"Hmm? Okay, I heard that you would be at the Engelbert Hotel and that you would eventually show up here to play sooner or later" It was just then that Tezuka noticed the tennis bag parked right beside Atobe's leg.

"So, you've been waiting here hoping that I would show up" Tezuka said. Atobe surely heard the ridicule in Tezuka's face.

Atobe sneered, "You made me wait long enough though" Tezuka sighed. He pushed his drink forward, he wasn't enjoying it. Tezuka could not believe what he was hearing. He just waited for him to show up? How long had he been planning to wait and what if he never showed up? He couldn't be serious.

"So now you owe me" Atobe said, leaning forward. Tezuka couldn't connect those dots. What? Atobe shows up waiting for someone he never invited and then he owes him for _making him wait_?

"I thought you were going to go to Hyotei high" Tezuka just bypassed any meaningless conversation.

"Well, apparently I didn't" he quickly replied, almost before Tezuka finished. That startled Tezuka only slightly. That haughty smile reemerged on his lips. "I like it here much better"

"Better than what?" Tezuka wasn't exactly interested but continued the conversation regardless.

"Hyotei High"

"I thought you didn't go there" Tezuka was getting confused. He squinted his eyes.

"I did for the first year or so" Atobe stirred the spoon in his drink. Tezuka was bewildered by his behavior. For just a second, that smirk was gone. But only for a second. "But" he turned his expression back to Tezuka, "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about" What else could he want to talk about.

"I was surprised to hear that you were staying at Engelbert and wanted to talk to you" he laced his fingers together. "Tezuka, by any chance do you believe in the occult?" Tezuka rolled his head back.

"No, if that is all then-"

"Hear me out on this. Okay Tezuka" Atobe cocked his head to the right and chuckled. Tezuka wasn't so sure and didn't want his time waste more on this. "You are staying in room 301 right?" Tezuka was stunned that he knew his room. He assumed he knew that he was at the hotel because it was mentioned in the tabloids. But his room number wasn't.

Atobe leaned forward with his elbows on the table, "Do you know what happened in that room?" he asked. Tezuka could roll his eyes at that. "Why is everyone so concerned with my room. No, I do not know and I do not care to know" He lowered his chin, his eyes closed.

"Oh yes you do" Atobe seemed so sure. "You want to know about the people in your room" _The people?_ Tezuka made sure not to respond, he didn't want to advance Atobe's argument. Atobe had his hands flat on the table as he leaned in closer like he was about to pounce.

"But maybe you haven't experienced anything yet. But maybe you have. A strange feeling or strange occurrences" He said. That lingering feeling, the image of the ball stopping mid-stride, it came all back to mind. Was he already aware? No, he couldn't be. Atobe was smirking like he did though.

"Tell me you're not curious" he said.

"I'm not in the slightest" Tezuka replied. "Why are you so curious? I don't remember you having such ridiculous interest in middle school" Tezuka watched Atobe lean back into his seat still with that smirk on his lips. But this time, it looked like he was planning some other form of attack.

He would have to try it some other time because Tezuka soon felt his coach's hand on his shoulder. "Oh, have a friend Tezuka?" the coach said. Tezuka rose from the seat immediately and turned away.

"Let's go" he said. The coach looked quite confused by this as Tezuka already began to leave for the car.

"Oh, Tezuka. Why not we have a match soon. Tomorrow" Atobe said, leaning back in comfort. The coach stood awkwardly as he couldn't understand the Japanese conversation. Tezuka turned his head over the shoulder,

"Is that what you want?" he asked.

"What do you think?" Atobe took his tea cup and lifted it up in cheers. "So it's decided"


	5. Nightie-Night

Tezuka didn't have too much interest in playing Atobe but he thought it might be a good way to get the whole TV show thing off his mind. He thought about it as he locked the door to his hotel room. He had just finished a few hours of training with his coach. Sweat dripped down his chin and hair.

He tossed a towel to a chair in the room. _Atobe._ Is that really the reason he is here? He didn't know why he would be suspicious. Atobe can afford to live and go to school where ever he wants. _Studying Abroad. _Well that means that he is officially a student of some other school. But not Hyotei high? Then where?

He shook it out of his mind and cleaned his glasses. It was around seven pm according to the desk clock. _Tomorrow?_ Actually, some part of him looked forward to the match. He was after all, the only connection he had to the past. Sometimes, he longed for it. He couldn't let anyone know that. He left. Went all the way to Germany. He could never say that he had regrets. That he was afraid.

Atobe on the other hand, he was never afraid. At least it never shows. He just smirks and smirks and cocks his head. He doesn't have any real problems. Rich, handsome, smart, the heir to a multi-million yen business. He will never have to worry about anything.

Tezuka easily can remember how Atobe would literally just snap his fingers and the room would go quiet. The legions of girls, and even boys, that drowned him in love letters and cheers. Tezuka was popular with girls in school, yes, but he didn't relish in it like Atobe did and does.

He leaned back on the bed. He hadn't been expecting to fall asleep right there with his legs dangling off the bed. The room was almost pitch black when he awoke besides from the soft green glow from the desk clock.

"Hmm?" he rolled his head back in the covers. It was a warm darkness in the room but he still moved to go under the covers. Getting closer, he could see it was roughly 3 am. He couldn't help but inwardly sigh. Not only did he have that match but- it had just occurred to him that he was unaware of just when Atobe wished to have the match. Unlike Atobe, Tezuka wasn't willing to wait around at the courts until he showed up. Some part of him was eager for the match. He hasn't had a challenging match in over three months. Coach has been working on training him but even as a trainer he was a little challenge in an actual match. He was only able to win one set off him.

Atobe though, he may be a challenge. The last he saw of him was during the nationals, his match with Ryoma. But it was before then during his own match with Atobe that first experienced Atobe's power. And his reckless nature. With no concern besides his own entertainment, he purposely tried to hit shots that would put strain on his already injured arm. He could only have gotten stronger since that time. But Tezuka isn't afraid of him. His shoulder and elbow have been healing up nicely and Atobe hasn't acted in that way again from what he knows. Either way he did look forward to the match.

He yanked on the blanket. The weight of edges off the bed weighed it down and he wrapped it over him as he rolled to his side. The glow of the clock flickered momentarily before just shutting down altogether. He didn't concern himself with it. If a luxurious and wealthy hotel wants to buy cheap alarm clocks, that's their business. Although with the rate they are charging, he is owed a personal butler that will ring a hand bell on request. Not only that, Tezuka would only have expected basic heating as well. But one way or another, he was rubbing his feet together and tugging on the blanket that was being pulled by its own weight. He kicked at the ends of it as he tried to get comfortable but every few moments he realized the blanket was a little lower down his body. From his chin to his shoulders to his chest and lower. It wasn't a heavy blanket and yet it pulled and pulled. As he rolled in place, the blanket felt as if it sealed itself along the edges of the mattress. As he tried to yank it, his arms tightened, he felt a puff of his breath raise itself into a white cloud. The room was now much colder.

As he tugged, it was as if the blanket was pulling back. His whole body arched as he fought it. With the soft glow of the clock flickering on, the blanket fluffed up and fell like a low-lying cloud. All the pressure released and Tezuka banged his head back against the bedpost.

The room seemed suddenly still. That air rose against his chest and warmed inside his lungs. A strange sensation that made his hair rise and his goosebumps form. As he breathed, he tried to calm his heart. The green glow remained constant and he soon lied back down. Only a few moments had passed in the green and he knew it'd be best if he caught up on his sleep before he was completely drained. As he relaxed his shoulders and rolled them in place and stretched his neck muscles he released his breath.

In the past year, he has been experimenting with breathing meditations. Letting the breath travel through his body. From his nostrils and experience every sensation from his nose through his chest through his toes. Slowly, let every numbness or tingle resonate with him until he can be spiritually gathered in his core. It helps him to practice this before a big game. He can feel the difference in his arms as he serves and the resistance in his legs has melted away. He can move faster, press harder, see clearer. It has also reduced his ongoing anxiety. Ever since coach mentioned it to him, and actually enforced it as a workout regime, his concerns have loosened in their tangibility. They still were knotted, just looser.

"What are you doing!"

Tezuka shot up immediately. His eyes darted across the wall looking. His breaths ragged. He didn't understand, it sounded like someone had just yelled at him from the end of the bed. A growl of a voice. Even after a full scan of the bedroom, it seemed that no one had been there. But he was sure that it was in the room. Beyond the walls was silent. Even if it did come from the other side, the wall acts as a muffler. It would not have been so intense or loud. He sighed, not believing that he was actually pressing his ear to the white wall trying to listen in.

He knew it was going to be bad when he looked at the alarm clock and he was right. Four-sixteen. His workout routine is supposed to start at five-thirty. No point in getting to bed now but he may be able to tuck away a few minutes' worth. Tezuka shimmied back under the blankets and tried to quickly nod off. He must have been tired because he felt himself falling into a familiar nothingness. As he drifted behind his eyelashes, a deeper darkness grew across the room. His mind was spanning into a stream of loose consciousness. Still he was not concerned about anything as he slept. He was feeling a tug on over his chest. The blanket was sliding down again. A heavy weight gathered his feet and it pulled and tugged more. He was confused because the blanket itself wasn't a heavy one, it was rather lightweight.

"Who is this!" he suddenly heard the blast. Jumping up again, he felt his heart reverberating through his bones and echoing through his ears. A loose string of syllables from his lips came in a weak whisper. "_Who is there?"_ was all he was able to muster in his sudden freezing.

"What do you think you're doing!" He heard it again, this time even louder and he knew it was directed at him. Still, there was not a movement of the room, not even of a shadow from the branches and leaves shifted.

He cleared his throat with a deep cough, "Is there someone there?" he asked. As he waited, he watched the room for any slight movement, a shadow, and twitch, any indication that there was someone in the room with him. "I asked, is someone-"

"How dare you!" the disembodied voice blared, a disjointed echo boomed through the walls as the very blanket on top of Tezuka was yanked back into the air. Like a wave, the blanket glided feet into the air and Tezuka reacted immediately. The headboard banged against the wall as he shot back against it. He couldn't even scream as he saw the blanket drape down into the shape of a man as it fell in front of the bed. Only momentarily did it remain before the figure dissipated into nothing. The white blanket seemed to glow in the blackness. It was a few moments until the sound of air conditioning seemed to come buzzing back to him to him.

Despite the fear of having seen what he saw, he jumped and skipped out of the bed and hurried to the door in his bare feet. He glided passed the white sheet, not even daring to touch it. Yellow light through the crack of the door glowed like the light from the oven as he fumbled and yanked on the door knob. In his panic, he didn't turn the knob, only hoicking it hard.

The cold air rose steady and he could feel behind him, growing along his nape. Just then the door opened and Tezuka has never run so fast to the lobby. Not once did he stop in his stride, not even for a moment's breath. Even in his years as running around the hot metal wires of the tennis courts, he never did feel the wind swell and burn in his lungs like he did that day.

Alone in the well-lit German lobby, he just breathed and tried to think it over and over like an item in the wash. Yeah, that's what he needed, a wash. The sweat came smooth from his forehead almost like water had been dropped on him. He felt foolish and disgusting from the run. He didn't even stop in an elevator, opting instead to hopping down the stairs five at the time. There was a spring in his step as he was jolted down the stairs like a bird in flight.

"Hallo" Tezuka spun around to see a sharply dressed woman standing behind him. A name tag reading _Anina._ She had long blonde hair that rippled around her blue eyes. _Huh?_ He tried catching his breath a bit more. He could see her lips moving but the sound was almost disjointed from her. "Ist alles in Ordnung?"

_What? _Tezuka had to look her over, she was speaking in a way he suddenly couldn't understand. _German?_ He could recognize the sounds but the meanings were not tangible. A new sense of panic engulfed his nervous system. "Um…" was all able to muster. The woman continues as she waved over a man in the lobby uniform. As the two spoke he remained in complete ignorance and fear. He didn't understand until he was able to completely calm down and recollect himself.

"Sorry, for the inconvenience" He spoke with the smoothest German he knew. The woman looked much relieved by this.

"No, no it's fine" she said smiling, "Is there anything you need?"

"No, I'm fine" he responded. Still, his hands were shaking into the morning when the Coach found him in the breakfast area.


	6. Lunch

"Tezuka, here already?" The coach chuckled as he came into the breakfast area in a flashy red track suit. "Must not have filled your stomach last night" he said, pulling up a chair.

Tezuka was leaning into the back of his chair, a glass of ice water trembling in his hand. He didn't respond to the coach, who soon went about retrieving a cream bagel. He was still spreading it on when he came back to the table.

"Tezuka, you really are up early. Are you excited for working out today or something?" He asked, lowering himself into the chair. "By the way, is Keigo a friend of yours?"

Tezuka didn't respond, he didn't even hear him. His mind was somewhere else dealing with his experience from the night before. There is no way it was something natural. _By any chance do you believe in the occult? _No he does not. Atobe would probably use this as some evidence or something. Why he has some strange interest in the occult is beyond him. He didn't seem to have any interest in it in middle school.

"Oh and I forgot to talk to you about the sponsorship. I have the papers in the bag. We can really go over it after out morning workout but this is a really good opportunity. They are offering to cover for many expenses and even do promo- Hey you're really shaking" The coach leaned in, a hand on Tezuka's.

"Is something bothering you?" He asked, seeming genuinely concerned. The coach was not an overly concerned man but Tezuka always knew he, to some extent, was intent on guiding him along the way. Including providing emotional support.

"Yes, I'm fine. Let's start now" he replied.

"Already? Don't you think it's a bit early for that?" He checked his watch, "It's only 5:14" he was quite perplexed by this strange behavior. "I wasn't planning on leaving until 5:30" he said.

Tezuka didn't care. He didn't want to be in the hotel any longer. Besides from the obvious, he has been sitting there since the incident occurred.

"Have you even eaten yet?" he asked. No. Tezuka was in no mood to eat. Not at all. Although he knew this would negatively affect him when he went into practice. He wouldn't want to pass out right in the middle of a rigorous routine. Still, his stomach had no cravings. Even more so, it was repulsed by the idea of food.

"Tezuka, a phone call for Tezuka" A woman, Anina, called from the entrance of the eating area. Another phone call? Who could it be now? He had a sneaking suspicion as he walked to the same set of phones that he was called to last time. When he lifted the receiver he knew he was right.

"Ahh. Looking forward to our match today?" Tezuka really hated that sound he feels the need to make when speaking. He always drags out the beginning or the ending syllable. Did he think it made him sound cool?

"Hmm? Well Tezuka?"

"Sure Atobe. I am going to be training now so goodb-"

"Wait-" Atobe was able to stop him before clicking the phone back against holder, Tezuka returned it to his ear. "We haven't set up a time. I'm available any time before eleven-thirty and after two-forty-five"

Tezuka thought it over. "ten-thirty will work"

"Oh? You think you can win a match against me in one hour? You really have become arrogant since coming to Germany. What? All the air time on the sports channel gone to your head?" Tezuka moved his head back in surprise. He knows? Well, of course he knows. Tezuka didn't even think about how Atobe would have most definitely have seen the commercials, the games, the hot-air balloon special!

He grimaced, placing a hand across his eyes.

"But it won't matter. I can defeat you in twenty minutes. I'll even treat you to lunch afterwards" he laughed. "Oh, and don't be late" Tezuka could almost see that cocky smile through the phone. He never was a fan of it and he didn't hesitate to hang up. He could imagine Atobe's expression as he abruptly hung up.

When he returned to the table, the coach had his briefcase with him and he was munching down on some sausages. He rolled his head back to him, "I suggest you eat something before we go in a few minutes" he lifted his watch in testimony.

Tezuka considered it although he had no cravings, he would take something with him to nibble on later. "By the way, who was that on the phone?" the coach asked.

"No one just… I plan on going to that café that you took me to before later today" Tezuka didn't know the address of the café but knew that it would be way too far to walk. "Is it possible you could drive me there before ten-thirty?" The coach tilted his head, his eyes just skimming above the edge of his black sunglasses.

"What are you going to be doing there?" He asked. He shook his head as he cut into the meat.

"I have a match at that time on the tennis courts" The coach seemed surprised.

"With who?" He asked. It was a fair question. Tezuka has not had a match outside of his training or a tournament since coming to Germany. Especially not one set up my himself.

"Someone who I knew during middle school. He happens to be nearby studying abroad" Tezuka replied. "I already agreed to the match. It won't interfere with my training so would you please dri-"

"Yeah, of course. I'm glad you're not just moping around in your room or training by yourself. You need to get out more" The coach's smile was wide. That mustache of his jumped as he grinned. "Is it Keigo?" he asked.

"Yes. "

"Well isn't that good? You must have been happy to run into a friend from your country" he said. It would seem that way but that's just not it. Tezuka wasn't specifically happy to see Atobe. If it were Oishi or someone from Seigaku, then he would have been. Tezuka just turned to look out the windows across the hall in reply. The coach was used to that sort of behavior and didn't take any offense to it.

"Well, it's about time so we should get going" He said. Usually when they train they go to an underground gym with a weight room, track and a few tennis courts. It is a strict schedule, track and arm and shoulder training. On the court, it's not uncommon to run a total of three or so miles, so he makes sure to run that every day. The track itself is only half a mile in length calling for roughly six laps to complete the goal. Lately though, Tezuka has been running closer to twelve as he clears his mind.

The coach usually stands nearby with a clipboard. Sometimes he joins in. While the coach is not near being an equal in tennis, he far surpasses him in duration. He used to be a track star in high school and always finds an excuse to talk about it. Tezuka usually tunes out as he reminisces.

That day wasn't any different from the usual. As coach spoke about some fickle girl of his past- a girl that never sounded interested to Tezuka- Tezuka drifted away to anticipation of his match with Atobe. It was only three hours away. Strangely, he had something similar to butterflies in his stomach. It didn't dissipate when he went to muscle training. Just two hours away. Or when moved to swings and ball return practice. One hour.

"We should started heading over there if you want to eat" the coach said in the midst of Tezuka's swing. Tezuka paused to breathe. Huffing just barely, he dropped his shoulders, a bead of sweat rolling down his chin.

"We still have training" Tezuka said, getting back into his receiving stance. "I can go when we're done"

"You're match starts as soon as the usually end our morning training. It will take about thirty minutes to get there and you'll want to make sure you get a court. It can be pretty busy there" the coach said. Tezuka sighed. He knew by the tone in the coach's voice when he wasn't being given an option. Coach tends to be very lenient and could even be said to go with the flow but there are times when he wants things done his way. When he knows best. Tezuka knew this was that time.

The ride there, the air conditioning cooled his hot sweat. Hunger was setting in as the little snack he brought-just in case-just wasn't doing it. The coach must have noticed during training because it just didn't seem as intense.

"We're about here" he said.

Even at ten-thirty, it was crowded. The coach came around and opened the door for him.

"Bet you're glad that we came early. You should feed yourself before your match" he smirked. Tezuka couldn't help but notice the coach lingering around despite having no obligation to. _I'm just thinking of getting a bagel._ He said, overly focused on a vase of flowers. Sure.

Either way, Tezuka really didn't care. He went through the building, passing through the full tables looking for Atobe. The room was bustling with women and preteens drinking smoothies. Visors, skorts, sleeveless polos seemed to be the uniform.

He saw a girl giggling and nudging her friends when she saw him. He was used to that sort of thing. There aren't many Japanese in the general area. Still, he would have expected a little more politeness. As he went through aimlessly, he must have caught the eye of a server.

A woman dressed in uniform came to him, "Can I help you sir?" she asked.

"Yes, actually I am looking for someone" before he could offer any sort of identification, she pointed out the wide windows.

"Is he who you are looking for?" She asked. At the end of her long, manicured finger was a very familiar face. Hitting a ball and bouncing it with his racket, was none other than Atobe.

"Thank you" Tezuka said and went about brushing passed the figures in the way. As he tried to push outside, he was stopped by Atobe who was coming in.

"Oh, there you are" he smirked, "You can't hang up in person" He moved in, pressing passed Tezuka as other people were moving out into the courts. As he went, Tezuka felt Atobe's hand tug on his forearm as he led him in. Although he didn't believe Atobe meant anything by it, it made him slightly uncomfortable.

"I was just about to eat something while I waited. Remember I said I would treat you? So let's find a table" he said, his hand letting go when Tezuka was right behind him. All the tables looked full and Tezuka was just about to offer that they just play when Atobe flashed one of his many cards and a table miraculously cleared. Sitting near a window, Atobe was quick to relax, spreading himself across the booth.

"So" Atobe began as Tezuka was glancing the menu. "You must have been surprised to hear from me again" He smiled, tilting his head to the side. Tezuka was more interested in the salami on baked bread than this conversation. He scanned the menu a bit more. Eggs on the side too... "I already knew you were here but I would have never expected to see you in a rap battle" Tezuka's eyes rolled up from the menu. Atobe's eyes glared down from his cocked head. Tezuka knew how to read between the lines: _Pay attention to me!_ Tezuka lowered the menu, knowing if he didn't, that a tape recording of some Elard specials would end up mailed back to Japan that day.

Attention attained, Atobe soon dropped his head. "When I found out you would be nearby I knew I would have a chance to play you again. I've been thinking about a rematch for years. Of all the places you could be though, I never thought you would be at the Engelbert" he said. He couldn't help but recall a previous conversation with him. _Don't you want to know what happened there?_ Still, the answer is no. _Yes, you do._

"I've had an interest in the Engelbert since I first heard of it. Five murders and three suicides. It has quite the history" he finished. Tezuka wasn't sure where he was going with this. Or why he seemed so interested in this sort of topic. Didn't they meet just for a match? Somehow, he didn't think so. Atobe was glancing through the menu, occasionally flickering his eyes up to Tezuka.

"Just order whatever you want" he said. Atobe put down his menu and slid it forward. "After we eat, we can get to our match". Tezuka looked through the menu one last time before deciding. After placing his order, Tezuka rested his eyes on Atobe's folded hands.

"While we wait, we should catch up" he said, his eyes even smirking.

"Okay, what do you want to know?" Tezuka asked. It would be a few minutes until they were served and it was a fair suggestion. After all, they hadn't seen each other in years. Atobe didn't look much different except he seemed just the slightest bit thinner around the face. His jaw somehow different. A little straighter even.

"Hmm. How about… how was your slumber last night?" What? Tezuka was confused. Atobe slid forward, "In room 301 all by yourself. Don't tell me nothing happened" Tezuka wasn't sure how to reply exactly. Haven't they already been over this?

"Atobe-"

"And you still don't know what happened there?"

"No, I do not care to know. I came here today to play you in a match with you. If you continue with this nonsense then I'm leaving" Tezuka warned.

Atobe grinned, leaning back, "Fine. Fine. But really, what have you been up to?" he asked. Tezuka knew he hadn't given up on the morbid topic but it was nice to get some air that wasn't covered in dust or mildew. However, what he said did perk Tezuka's ears. _Murder_ and _suicide_? He didn't let on to his curiosity.

"Well, I could say I'm doing well. I have been training and I have a tournament I am appearing in" he said. The latter, he wasn't too excited for. "My coach tells me that I have an offer of sponsorship" Tezuka told him.

"Coach? Oh, you mean Niklas?" Tezuka's eyebrow rose. Atobe seemed pleased with this.

"Yes, I've met him before. And-" he nodded his head across the room, "Isn't that him over there?" he asked. Tezuka followed and was only surprised to find the coach sitting less than fifteen feet away, hidden behind an indoor plant. Clearly being spotted, he froze his body looking out the window with the bagel locked between his fingers.

Tezuka sighed.

"He's a nice guy. He'll take care of you" Atobe said, so sure of it.

"Do you guys know each other?" Tezuka asked.

"For a short time. But that's not important right now" he waved over a server, "Could you invite that man other there to our table" he said. Tezuka wasn't sure what was happening but Atobe soon smirked at him. That didn't make him feel any less confused.

Tezuka watched as Niklas rose from his table and sauntered over as if he had accidently run across them. "Oh, hello boys. What are the odds of running into you here?" he scooted in beside Atobe.

"Niklas. Long time no see" Atobe's voice seemed deeper than Tezuka recalled.

"What do you mean? We saw each other just the other day. Here at the café, matter of fact" Coach laughed. "Didn't recognize me?" he brought his food with him and tucked the end of his bagel into his mouth.

"Well, you do look a little different. You shaved that awful beard" Atobe chuckled, gesturing with his hands the length of the monstrosity. The coach leaned back into a howl.

"Hey, hey. The ladies loved that beard!" he pleaded. Tezuka couldn't have felt more like a third wheel. He didn't know where he fitted in right then. The two of them spent the next few minutes catching up, much like how he and Atobe were supposed to. As they talked, Tezuka noticed there was no introduction or explanation as to how the two knew each other.

"But, what about you? You are looking good. Much better" he smiled. Tezuka for the first time saw the shadow of a smile disappear from his lips. Quickly, a smirk reemerged.

"I always look good. Anyways-" he turned, "Tezuka, I heard you were offered a sponsorship" he said, lacing his fingers together. The coach cleared his throat.

"Yes, that reminds me" the two of them straightened out to face Tezuka. "I have been meaning to tell you about a sponsorship" The coach said. "I have the papers in my briefcase but you have been offered a financial sponsorship by Atobe corporations" _Is that how they know each other?_ Tezuka wondered.

"They are offering to cover new equipment cost, brands, and travel expenses. It is a good offer. It's a Japanese company so you might have heard of it. Apparently, they have sponsored other athletes in the past. Those athletes were highly promoted and gained some traction in their fields"

"Yes, the last man promoted was a baseball player and some popular merchandise was sold with his names or images on them" Atobe said. Just then a waitress came with their orders. She reached an arm between the two sides as she laid the plates down. "He currently is a part of the NPB"

"You know the Atobe corporation pretty well Keigo. Yeah, you used to play tennis, didn't you?" The coach replied. Atobe seemed only slightly bewildered. Tezuka was just reaching for his meal. He was starving.

"Well, I am the heir to the company" he smirked.

"What-really?" he gasped, "_Atobe_. That's right, your last name is Atobe. I would've never guessed. I knew you were rich but wow" he shook his head with a grin.

"You never thought there might be a connection?" Atobe asked, retrieving his drink from the center of the table. He didn't order much. Tezuka just figured that he already ate. He ordered tea or something like that.

"Well, I knew you guys had the same last name but that doesn't mean anything. _Suzuki_ is a car company so I thought a Japanese woman named Suzuki who went to the gym I used to go to was a part of it, so I asked her. I got in trouble for harassment" The coach explained. Atobe laughed.

"We'll I won't charge you" he smiled. "But back to what we were saying-" Atobe turned to Tezuka, "While Atobe corps is a Japanese based company, it has its hands in the pockets of many major international companies. Including the Tennis Association of Europe" Atobe smirked. Tezuka's brow rose. The Tennis Association of Europe? Tezuka found himself eager.

"What are you thinking Tezuka?" The coach asked.

"This sound interesting to me" he said. There was no excitement in his voice but that wasn't anything strange. "Besides from the obvious, what are my benefits?" he asked. The coach replied before Atobe could.

"Besides from promotions, they will take care of new equipment cost, hotel and travel expenses and they even offered to recommend you for professional training" the coach said. Tezuka liked the sound of that. Technically the coach was a professional trainer but this was a much better opportunity.

"I'll give you time to consider it" the coach said, he folded his fingers on the table.

"Unless you want to keep working with…_Elard, _was it?" Atobe smirked, his teacup to his lips. Tezuka furrowed his brows, Atobe smirked, finally getting a rise out of him. Tezuka didn't know why he seemed to get so much enjoyment out of it. Atobe's smile was hidden by the teacup as he drank.

What caught his attention was the teacup shaking suddenly. Atobe tipped his cup forward as he sipped from it. Cradled in his hand, the cup clattered when he placed it trembling on the table. The tea rushed the cup walls and splashed a few drops onto the table. Atobe's quaking hand was soon covered at the wrist by his other palm and withdrawn from the table.

The coach cut in, "It really is a good deal so consider it, will you?" he said. He didn't even glance in Atobe's direction, which Tezuka thought was odd. Atobe was glancing down at his meal, which was mainly eaten. When Atobe lifted his eyes from it and met Tezuka's, he immediately chuckled.

"Hurry up so we can play our match" he said. The coach jumped in quickly.

"Oh yes, I want to see the match. Tezuka, you said that you knew each other middle school?' Tezuka nodded, he did mention it. Atobe smirked,

"We had a match before. I won" _Only because my shoulder gave out,_ Tezuka was tempted to say.

"Oh wow, then you must have been very good, Keigo" From what has been said, Tezuka was starting to wonder if Atobe still actively played tennis. Something about the way coach talked. Still, he didn't know their relationship fully and it was of a small interest to him.

"Did you pick up playing again?" Tezuka's ears perked. _So, he doesn't play?_ If that's the case, it would be purely a fool's game if they were to attempt a serious match. If Atobe has stopped playing even in the last few months, Tezuka could assure that he has seriously surpassed him. Not that he was ever behind him. Shoulder gave out after all. Match point.

Atobe just gave one of those exhaled sort of breaths with a smile and picked up his tea with that shaky hand again. Except, it wasn't shaking any longer. Tezuka would rather just skip this and go to the match. Atobe seemed ready to go.

"Let's get started" Tezuka abruptly proposed. The two of them seemed taken off guard by it, the coach was still eating that same bagel. Atobe smirked.

"Then let's get to it" he said, raising as well as he could from the booth. "But first I need to change okay" he was wearing a trainer that probably was worth more than Tezuka could possibly make in a few years' worth of tournament winnings. He leaned forward over the table, closer to Tezuka than Tezuka would have liked. He could feel Atobe's breath as he spoke, "Let's have a good match" he said in Japanese. Tezuka didn't know why he did that. The coach was looking curious. There was something slightly flirtatious about the way he curled his tongue when he said it. But then again, it wasn't much different than when Atobe usually speaks or says tells others _to be in awe of his prowess._

As Tezuka was getting up from his side of the booth and stepping out, he felt the coach's hand grasp his wrist.

"Tezuka" he had a serious look under his sunglasses, "you don't need to go hard on this" he said. Tezuka was taken aback. _Go easy?_ On Atobe? Tezuka glanced over to the brightly painted side door that lead to the tennis courts. Atobe had already passed through among the people.

"What do you mean? I always give my all" Tezuka replied.

"No, I'm telling you not to. Atobe he's… fragile. And besides he-" Tezuka snatched his hand away and turned away to the door.

"Sorry coach but I can't do that" he didn't wait for the coach to respond. He didn't know what he meant by "fragile" but that is not a word he would use to describe the bigger-than-life Atobe. He seemed robust enough and he doesn't take him for emotionally unstable. Maybe a narcissist but that's no reason to go easy on him. Matter of fact, it makes him want to beat him more. He'll never forget his match with Atobe. The entire stands cheering, the way be basked in it, slowly walking to the court and even snapping his fingers and tossing his jacket into the air. He was a show-stopper.

He stepped out the yellow door. There were flowers in hanging pots and the courts were brightly painted in red, greens, and yellows. It was lively enough, much more than Tezuka personally cared for. Atobe must have still been changing because Tezuka couldn't find him when he was walking across the courtyard. Many people were already playing. There was one spare court open and Tezuka quickly claimed it for them. It wasn't far from the door and he knew that being the lone Japanese person on the courts, he would be easy enough to spot. He already had tennis balls on him, although a person can rent some for a low cost, and was bouncing it against the ground with his racket for a few minutes while he waited. It sure was taking Atobe a while.

Tezuka glanced across the courts for a moment. Despite the coach saying he wanted to watch, he wasn't even out on the courtyard. Tezuka had some strange feeling that he was ordering another bagel. Probably still sitting in that same spot.

As he waited, his anticipation grew. It had been a while since he has faced another person that might be a challenge and despite what the coach may think, Tezuka knows Atobe's skill level was top-notch. A national player.

_Fragile._

Just what _did_ the coach mean by that? Tezuka immediately thought back to the shakiness at the table. It was so sudden, just his hand began to tremble wildly. It was his right hand, Tezuka thought back. That could be fatal to a player if they can't control the hand that wields their racket. Especially while serving or retrieving. Did he get injured or something? Tezuka sincerely doubts he suddenly became aware of _Tezuka's_ prowess and became afraid. The thought brought a strange smirk to his lips and he erased it quickly.

"Daydreaming, eh Tezuka?" There it was, that drawl that Tezuka hates, especially when he adds his name to it. He was bouncing the ball and it almost bounced out of his sight when he turned to Atobe. Tezuka had to shake himself out of staring to catch the stray ball. He was just in shock at what he saw. From where the right knee would have been was replaced by metal. The entire length of the rest of the leg was a prosthetic.


	7. Match

What to do? What to do? Tezuka was completely taken off guard by this turn of events. A prosthetic leg? The shaky hand was enough, but an amputated leg? He wasn't going to ask. He knew better than that.

Atobe was standing with a hand on his hip. "Well should we spin for it?" he asked. Tezuka knew he couldn't afford to keep spacing out. His eyes were continually drawn to the reflective material. Did he lose in an accident? A disease? He couldn't stop wondering. Just what has happened in the last few years?

Atobe came to the net with his racket head touching the ground. "What do you call?" he asked. Looking down, the prosthetic leg looked even more strange. Atobe had the butt of the racket between his fingers. "Up", Tezuka replied. He never spins his racket to decide these things. It leaves scuffs; besides, it doesn't really matter to him.

"Okay then" Atobe popped his hip a bit and struck an alluring pose. Did Atobe even realize how attractive he was? He was definitely an undiscovered model. Tezuka felt somewhat guilty for thinking that Atobe had it all. He may have money, looks, and confidence even with a missing leg.

Atobe spun it and let it drop.

"Down. Too bad" That phantom smile emerged, not that it ever truly left. He sauntered back to the service line with a tennis ball in from his pocket in his hand. Was it hard to serve now? Sure, there were Olympians that compete with prosthetics but it can't be an easy feat. Especially with that shaky hand of his. Was his hand related to his leg? When did all of this happen?

He heard the scrap of the balls against the hard court beside him.

"Come on Tezuka, pay attention" He heard Atobe say. Yeah, he needs to pay attention. He crouched into position as he saw Atobe getting ready to serve. With the toss of the ball into the air, Tezuka got ready. It's time. This was Atobe he was going against. He's going to need to take this seriously. As the ball came, he side-stepped to reach it. Soft. It wasn't nearly as hard as he was expecting. He sent the ball sailing right over the net, almost a little too fast. Atobe caught it with the end of his racket and sent it back.

The match wasn't anything unusual. Returning and serving with the occasional slice. However, Tezuka couldn't help beginning to grow tired. There wasn't any risk in Atobe's strikes, no oomph in his serves. He had never known Atobe to take it easy. He saw him skip and hit the ball with a spin of his entire body. That one came back heavier.

Atobe was keeping up, running from one side of the court to the other. It didn't seem like the prosthetic was holding him back too much. He was very skilled player but the hiatus he's taken from the sport is starting to show.

It had been twenty minutes in and Tezuka was already ahead of him by a game. He couldn't believe this. Pinches of anger and disappointment filled him as he prepared to serve. There was no need to do anything involving true effort, he was finding. Was Atobe making fun of him? That'd be quite the joke. Right now, Tezuka is having a hard time taking this seriously. Atobe is still putting up a good game but he's not nearly as good as he was in middle school.

He had memories of that game, the intensity, the urgency of it-the importance of it-this couldn't even be called a rematch.

As Atobe returned the ball into a tight smash, Tezuka saw the first semblance of sweat dribbling down his chin in record pace. Was he already winded? Tezuka thought he would turn up the heat on him. He twisted his arm and launched the ball hard into the corner. It was driven so deep and fast, if it wasn't for the coach's call, they wouldn't have known if it was out.

Tezuka hadn't noticed his presences until then. When the two of them met eye-to-eye, the message was clear. _You don't have to give your all_. Well that was apparent now. Still, he wasn't expecting it to be such a bore of a match.

The ball had made its way passed Atobe. With the head of the racket, he almost was able to reach it. Was this the fault of the prosthetic? He seemed to walk just fine, but his reaction time is much slower, still he wobbled slightly as he straightened out of the dive.

"Tezuka, two games-love"

"You've gotten much better" Atobe said. Which almost beckoned a nasty response from Tezuka about Atobe having gotten much worse. But Tezuka isn't the type to speak unnecessary comments. By that time, it had been close to forty-five minutes. So much for beating him in twenty minutes. Atobe has barely scored anything. Was this really the difference in their abilities? Was this really the nationally recognized Atobe, who Tezuka was willing to have a rematch against?

"Hey Keigo" the coach called, "Do you still see Kolman at eleven-thirty?" he asked. Atobe didn't seem to pay too much attention to him. It was his turn to serve. While his speed has slowed and his intensity dimmed, his serves tended to become stronger throughout the game. Not that it was terribly difficult to return the balls though. Atobe was an all-rounder like Tezuka, Atobe was resembling a defensive baseliner in the rarity that he approached the net or made any aggressive plays. He was able to consistently return the ball, to some extent, but he rarely tried to score. It was as if he was just trying to stay alive.

He hit it high. The ball came swerving through the air and hit it deep into the service box. With a quick drop shot, Tezuka made sure to return it. Atobe had to rush for it as the ball soon hovered over the net. What was this? He saw Atobe reach it and shoot it back over but the entire performance was lacking. Compared with the others occupying the courts, Atobe was definitely a better player so despite his sorrowful display, he still was a skilled player. But whatever happened in the last three years has really degraded his level. A _King_? He was barely royalty at this point.

It couldn't be just the leg either. That wouldn't explain the weakness in the shots. He could afford the best trainers and the best artificial limbs if he wanted to retain his ability. It couldn't be that. With Atobe so close to the net, Tezuka moved in and returned it hard into the far corner. Atobe didn't move immediately after the shot was returned. Instead he took the time to breathe. Upon closer inspection, Tezuka could see his hair wetted down and clinging to his skin from sweat.

Tezuka had sweat too, sure, but that was merely from the heat of the sun above. Nothing about the match increased his heart-rate. Atobe poked his forefinger into his polo and aired himself out a bit.

"You really have gotten much better" Atobe said, his face to Tezuka's. _Better_ wouldn't be the appropriate word as the level Tezuka was playing at in this game wasn't much of an improvement from what he had played in middle school. "I can tell you are going easy on me though. Stop it. I don't need your pity"

Atobe steered himself back to the baseline. Tezuka was lost for words. _Going Easy?_ It's one thing to purposely avoid scoring when available just to make it easy on someone else. It's another to just not asserting unnecessary effort. Tezuka was practicing latter.

The coach made another call to Atobe, "It's only a few minutes until your appointment with Kolman. You should get ready to go" he suggested with that tone that Tezuka knows so well.

"I'll go when I want to" Atobe replied with a monstrous serve. With the way the game had been, he would've have just returned it. But no, if Atobe wants his hardest, he'll get it. Tezuka hit the ball hard enough to break it. It dashed into the service box fast enough to almost strike fire. Atobe flung it back, the force of it pushed him further away from the line.

"Tezuka!" The coach called. Tezuka freely ignored him. Before the ball even could pass the net, Tezuka was there and sliced it to the baseline. Atobe pivoted his body, sprawling his arms just to reach it. Barely, did the ball hit the racket-head's frame. As he tried to move closer, he miss-stepped and almost slipped. His hand scrapped the court as he kept his balance. With that, he didn't have the strength necessary to aim it and it bounced from his racket out of court.

"Atobe, is this really the best of your ability?" He asked. He wasn't his concern if he hurt Atobe's feelings.

"What?" Atobe's cocky smirk had a quirk in its corner like wire pulled too tight. There wasn't a sharpness in his response but Tezuka repeated himself. Atobe bore daggers at him, it wasn't enough to frighten him but it was a displeasure.

"If I had known about your injury then I would never have agreed to a match. We should have never come to the court as equals" Tezuka caught the ball as it bounced back from the fence with his racket. He didn't even bother to assess Atobe's expression as he made his way back to the building.

"Tezuka!" Atobe snapped, coming upon the end of the net. "Hey, don't you dare look down on me!" Despite his perfect fluency in German, he slipped back into Japanese. "How dare you" Atobe ground his teeth.

"Tezuka, Tezuka!" The coach called him, following him back into the building, "Don't ignore me. I am your coach" he said. Shuffling through the crowd and pushing passed them, he gripped onto Tezuka's shoulder.

"This was a complete waste of time. I'm sorry I dragged you out he-"

It was his jaw being knocked into the rest of his face that stopped Tezuka from talking. His eyes widened. The coach just slapped him. The room went into hushes and knowing he had just caused a stir in the café, the coach wrapped an arm around Tezuka's shoulders and forced him out the front where the herd had thinned.

He yanked Tezuka by the elbow and turned him round 'bout. "Tezuka, that behavior was down right cruel. You need to apologize to Keigo-"

"No"

"What? I am telling you to apologize. You didn't have to be so thoughtless in how you treated him. He came all the way here just to play you. He even treated you to lunch" the coach said.

Tezuka wasn't going to apologize when he had done nothing wrong. He wasn't the stubborn type like Ryoma Echizen had been but he wasn't the type to admit some wrongdoing that he didn't believe in.

"I told you to go easy, why couldn't you do that?"

"It was a match. Did you want me to lose on purpose too?"

"That's not what I'm saying. You know he's been injured. Why couldn't you just ease up? You were destroying him the entire match" _Destroying him?_ If anything, he was going easy. There is a limit to how easy he can take a match. If Atobe found it that distressing then the point stands that they shouldn't have been playing.

"Atobe is a nationally ranked player. To go easy is to disrespect him. He didn't want the pity" Tezuka said, already tired of the conversation. The coach sighed in exasperation.

"Tezuka, he is _injured_. He can't play like how he used to. You guys are friends, aren't you? Couldn't you be a little more compassionate? You know how much he's been through. Things have been hard on him since the accident. He's fragile right now. Why can't you just get that?"

Tezuka could only turn away. He wasn't Atobe's friend and he didn't know what he has been through. Inklings of self-consciousness sunk under his skin as the coach gave another sigh. "I know you're basically an adult at this point but there is a lot for you to learn about people. You should apologize" he said.

Tezuka could only nod as he was beginning to see things differently. He still didn't believe he had acting rudely but possibly coldly. "Okay. But not now" The coach's eye brow rose.

"If you go now, you can probably still catch him. He's got to be around here somewhere…"

"No. I just want to go" Tezuka replied. He didn't want to be there any longer. Apologizing was something he had never had a problem doing in the past. When he was wrong, he didn't have a problem making it right but this was different. It was the first time he had felt shame washing on him.

"Tezuka"

"Please" he said. He couldn't lift his stare from the ground. He would apologize, he just need a little space right then.

The coach relaxed his shoulders, "Fine. Let's go to the car". It wasn't parked too far away. They walked in silence there. Even as they opened the doors and sat inside they were quiet. They drove in silence. It wasn't until they were firmly on the road and that Tezuka had let the feeling release him that he decided to speak.

"Coach, what happened to Atobe?"


	8. Revelations

Driving through the afternoon with the air conditioning cooling his body, Tezuka sat in the back of the car. The incident at the café was slowly growing on him as he thought. Thinking for Tezuka was something he did often. However, most of the threads were from a racket. Tennis was his main preoccupation. His only passion, his only love. He was the most consumed during his middle school days, even passing up a study abroad opportunity just so he could take his team to nationals. The Nationals. That was the most important thing.

Now that the Nationals have been won and that he is no longer the captain to anyone, while his love for the sport hasn't waned, his intensity did. He has had other interest, such as German but mainly outdoor sports like mountain climbing and fishing. Tennis though, it has always been there for him. It has been an outlet for many harmful and confusing emotions. Tennis doesn't clear his mind, tennis becomes his mind.

As he sat in the car, he couldn't even enjoy his mind as the tennis match with Atobe was washing him. Maybe he had acted callously with him, maybe he was stubborn. He couldn't think of any new or rational reason for behaving the way he did and hearing the coach talk to him as if he were some villan did disturb him.

What disturbed him the most was the way the coach said _accident_ which made an even greater sense of shame wash coming over him. Tezuka had said that he and Atobe knew each other in middle school, but by what the coach had said, he seemed to be under the impression that they were friends. That Tezuka had known about this _accident. _He didn't. And he felt even more self-conscious asking about it.

The coach only sighed when he asked. The mere sound of it known that Tezuka's ignorance was known. He felt foolish but he needed to know. If he wanted to apologize, he needed to know just what happened to Atobe.

"You don't know? I thought you two were friends" the coach said. It wasn't the type of thing that Tezuka would respond to. And he didn't. The coach stayed silent for a turn and it wasn't until they joined on some inter-pass that he continued.

"Yeah, it was a bad accident. Back two years ago when he was a first year in high school" he steadied the speed. "He was coming back from something, I don't remember-some event- his driver was on the expressway when a truck crossed the divide" he let that sink in for a minute. His pauses were usually short but for Tezuka, it was too long as the coach took a sip of a cola he had in the drink holder.

"The driver had a seizure", Tezuka was finding himself growing increasingly anxious. It all sound all too awful. "It was just a freak accident but the driver was hit head on. A friend of Keigo's was with him, sitting on the same side as the driver" he took a long slug of the drink.

"It was bloody." The absence of emotion almost sounded callous to him. But even despite the absence of any warmth, it wasn't cold, just withdrawn. Pulled away, distant. "Keigo was sitting on the opposite side, still it almost killed him. The doctors don't really have any theory as to how he lived. He was ejected from the car. So was the driver, _he_ was found halfway through the passenger side door, halfway on the cement ten yards away with pieces of the windshield still in him.

That sunk in slowly. Tezuka could feel his bones chilling at the sound of the fiery dismemberment. The blood splattering in the interior and the sound of bones popping. The nondescript sound of metal crunching. Tezuka had heard it once when he went to a junkyard with his grandfather once. He got to see one of those big machines dropping metal plates onto the machine until it snapped and clapped into a box.

"His friend, I don't even think he had a face when they scrapped him out" Why was he saying all this? Did he have to be so graphic? Tezuka hated that sort of thing. He didn't-and truthfully couldn't-watch those gory horror videos like some the other guys back on Seigaku. He didn't have the stomach for it. Even there, he felt the unpleasant sensations before vomit. The thought of all that blood…

"They must have been going close to eighty miles per hour. It was beyond totaled. The driver-the one that had the seizure-he died. I don't know how they can tell if he had a seizure. If they look at the brain or something…" he trailed off only to pick up a moment later, "...not that he had much of one left"

"Stop", Tezuka heard his own fear in his voice. "Just…stop. I understand okay. I get it" he didn't though. He didn't understand why the coach needed to include all the gruesome bits. The thought of it-his re-imaginings of it- he almost became lachrymose in agony. As much as he didn't care for Atobe, seeing him moribund on the cold cement was almost too much.

_We should have never have come to the court as equals_. How could he say that? But he didn't know. He had no way of knowing. He really didn't. He wasn't going to ask. It shouldn't have made a difference. But it did. It changed everything.

"Atobe was near dead when the EMTs showed up. There was so much blood they thought he _was_ dead"

"Coach-"

"His jaw was completely dismantled. Just hanging off with his tongue hanging out-"

"Coach!-"

"And his leg…"

"Coach please!" Tezuka raised his voice, "Just stop" he pleaded.

"No, you need to hear this", The coach yelled back, "So just sit back and listen." Tezuka breathed in, all of it puffing out his chest in heavy air. He didn't want to imagine it. He wasn't there but just hearing it made him feel violated. Like something he wasn't supposed to hear. He leaned back into the seat. When the coach felt that Tezuka had remained still long enough, he continued, "It was just about torn up and destroyed. He nearly bled out right there on the road. If it weren't for that boy's money…" Tezuka could nearly hear a smirk in his voice.

"If that had happened to you or me, we wouldn't have made it- I can tell you that" He said. Tezuka knew that it was true. His father works at a firm and they could afford a nice place but he can recall his father sitting him down and telling him if he ever wanted to go to some tennis program, camp or any beneficial opportunity that he would have to earn it. Scholarships would have to pay for it. He never knew the consequences of talent until his father told him that.

That memory always motivated him to try harder, run harder, think harder, study harder, just be harder. "Nothing is more wasted than wasted talent" his father would tell him. A wasted opportunity was second according to him. Tezuka couldn't afford to waste either. That's why he has agreed to the training, the sports channel, and why he would agree to the Atobe sponsorship.

"Fifty-seven", the coach said. Tezuka lifted his head from his thoughts. "Do you know what that number stands for?" he asked. He couldn't see him looking into the interior driver's mirror at him but he felt as if his eyes were on him. He played it safe and didn't answer.

"It's the amount of surgeries he's had" the coach turned off the expressway. Tezuka knew they would be at the hotel soon. _Fifty-seven? Isn't that a bit excessive?_ Tezuka wondered.

"One massive surgery on his leg, five on his head. He had severe head trauma. Twenty-four on his jaw. Only eleven were necessary and the other thirteen were until he liked the way it looked, that doesn't count the dental surgeries he's had, of course. About seven of those. And about twenty were on his arm and other areas with nerve damage and additional surgeries"

Tezuka swallowed. How did he not know about this? Why didn't Oishi or someone text him? The fabulous, nationally recognized tennis player Atobe Keigo, almost killed in a major car accident? Yeah, they went to different schools but why wouldn't the guys from Seigaku tell him about that?

"Tezuka, I recommend you apologize soon for the way you acted. I can give you his number. I suggest you call by tonight but you ultimately tell him in person" he said. It was in a few minutes that they pulled up to the Engelbert. It was barely eleven-fifty-not even noon- and Tezuka felt too fatigued to do anything more for the day.

Entering the building, the coach stopped and gave the number to him. As Tezuka took it from his hands, the coach dropped a heavy hand onto his head and said, "You're a good kid Tezuka, I know you will make this right" He grinned.

There's a phone in each room and Tezuka sat on the bed as he dialed the number. He wasn't sure what he was going to say and he didn't have to. The call went straight to voice mail.

_This is the wonderful Atobe Keigo, I understand that you were excited to talk to someone of my prestige but unfortunately, I am preoccupied with a greater need. Call back when you recover from your disappointment. _

Tezuka rolled his eyes. Of course, he would have something like that to say.

_Leave a message after the beep. _

"Atobe, this is Tezuka. About today…" he paused, "I want to apologize I-" the phone started making a strange mechanical sound. He didn't let it deter him. "I acted out of line. I was unaware of your situation. I understand now that what I said to you was unfair and cruel. I'm sorry and would like to meet with you again and apologize in person" he said. He wasn't sure what else to say.

He held the phone an inch from his lips, breathed a bit and hung up. Less than a second later the phone began to buzz. It surprised him but he answered. "Hello?" he spoke. He didn't have to wait long for the response, breathy and irritated,

"Who is it?" It was definitely Atobe's voice.

His voice stuttered for a second, "This is Tezuka. I just called and left a message" he was about to hang up and just let him listen to the message. But that seemed problematic. "I wanted to say sorry for today. I acted rudely and did not consider the struggles you face"

"Spare me the sympathy", he scoffed. He didn't sound angry though. In the background, there was some noises like talking, shuffling.

"Is this a bad time?"

"No but I've never known you to be the concerned type. It's only been what…" he paused, probably going to look at his 100,000-yen watch, "Thirty minutes? You felt that guilty?" he chuckled. This was confusing him. He saw that look on Atobe's face when he left the courts. Was he no longer angry?

"I just wanted to make this right", Tezuka replied.

"Did Niklas put you up to this?", he asked. He had a tone that made Tezuka feel self-conscious. On the courts he had an insight that always lead him to victory. He wondered if this extended outside of the courts. Tezuka stayed quiet.

"He did, didn't he? There's no shame in being an insensitive ass. I know I've been called that" he laughed. After that his voice seemed more serious, "Did he tell you? About me?"

"…Yes" Tezuka answered him. "But I want to apologize because I know I was wrong"

"You just want the sponsorship." Atobe had responded before Tezuka even finished speaking.

"That's not it" Tezuka clenched his fist, even preparing to rise from the bed, "I am sorry for what I said. I didn't mean to hurt-"

Atobe burst laughing, "_Hurt_? Don't worry Tezuka, don't get ahead of yourself. You can't hurt me." Tezuka felt a sense of rejection he hasn't experienced before. Not that he wanted the ability to hurt Atobe but it was as if his sense of importance had been diminished.

"But I do want to meet up again", Atobe said. Tezuka felt his brow raise.

"Really?", his voice was more of a challenge.

"Yes. Maybe at the café again", He suggested.

"Then do you accept my apology?" Tezuka felt anxious.

"I didn't say that. I won't be satisfied until you beg" he whispered. It made him shiver. He could hear the curl in his tongue and feel the heat on his breath. It was like when Atobe held his wrist and when he leaned over the table. It made his mouth dry in some weird anticipation.

As the phone call seemed to be coming to a close, Tezuka needed to know something.

"Hey Atobe, how do you know coach Niklas?" he asked. They clearly had some familiarity with each other. They way they chatted at the café made that already evident.

"It's a secret. You're just going to have to meet me to find out" A cocky smirk emerged in Tezuka's imagination. Atobe has always been cocky and a smooth talker but something about his behavior seemed strange. Flirty even. It didn't make him uncomfortable just confused.

"So, are we in agreement?" he asked.

"Yes", he agreed.

"At the café again" he sounded pleased by his laughter. It was a deep throaty laugh that only a man could produce. And when Tezuka agreed, he added something that left him in bewilderment, "Well then let's remember to invite Oishi this time"


	9. Confusion

Tezuka sat on his bed in a renewed sense of confusion. _Oishi_? He tried not to concern himself with it as he prepared for bed. Still, it was a strange remark. Atobe and Oishi weren't friends from what Tezuka recalled. Oishi was also in Japan, last he heard of him. Oishi usually was the informant about what's going on back home. Inui sometimes contacted him too, but he always had unimportant things to discuss. He can remember the time he continually pestered him about Momoshiro and Echizen going on some date or something like that. From what he heard from the rest of the team later was that there was no secret homosexual liaison between them. They were just playing tennis. Why they feel the need to tell him these absurd things is beyond him.

Inui would always send him irrelevant information about some team member. Tezuka eventually had to go through the phone company to have him blocked. Oishi though, always contacted him with information that usually is of some importance or general interest. Ryoma winning another tournament in America, Fuji winning a photography contest, or himself being accepted into a prestigious program for those going into the medical profession- a _future doctors of Japan_ sort of deal. Oishi would make an excellent physician. He's always been like a mother hen worrying and caring for the team. Also, he always has had the attention for detail and strong thinker. He always nursed Tezuka well. Sometimes they would meet up to play a therapeutic match or he would tutor Tezuka in math.

He always seemed to care. Sometimes he had trouble understanding Tezuka's wishes or willingness to sacrifice himself for the nationals, but he always accepted him. That's something he always liked about Oishi.

It was just then that he heard a bang from the inside of his room. He glanced around the room not knowing where it had come from. Then there it was again, and again. It had a rhythm to it. Every few seconds there would be the same banging sound like something hitting the wall. He rose from the bed in search of the ominous noise. As he got closer to the sound, he noticed that it was coming from a wall. As he approached, he was completely bewildered by the absence of any obvious active movement that could be causing it. He could hear it loudly as he moved in close to the wall. It was definitely coming from that one spot, but it didn't sound like it was coming from the _inside_ of the wall.

He would have to report that sometime. As the night eroded into morning, he had wished he reported it that evening. It went on the entire night. Bang, bang, bang, that's all he heard the entire night. When he arose from the blankets, his eyes were red from sleep-deprivation.

The bathroom lights were too bright when he flicked the light on. As he moved to the shower, he thought he heard a noise. From the sound of it, it wasn't anything like the sound the night before. As he peeked through the doorway, he thought it was his cellphone that he had on the night stand. He didn't like the ring of it, so he always had it set to vibrate.

He didn't usually busy himself with his phone. Some people worry themselves with getting the newest models or the coolest ringtones. Tezuka personally thought it was more of a hassle than anything to use a phone for more than calling and email. He even has managed to hold onto the same worn out model that he received in middle school.

He started the water and went to scrubbing. In the shower, his thoughts wandered more freely than they would've in some other environment. Atobe's strange remark came back to mind. Usually he doesn't worry about such things, but this had a net over him. It was the way he said it. He offered no explanation for what it could mean. His curiosity was piqued by the mention of Oishi. He hasn't seen him in years. He would love to sit down and talk with him. Especially after how things ended between them.

When he was finished, he rubbed at his ears and tossed a towel over his hair. When he had dressed, he took his tennis bag and snagged his phone. He wasn't too concerned with it as he turned into the hall with the bag slung over his shoulder.

Coach was already in the breakfast area like usual, scarfing down some sausages. Tezuka only secured a bagel and sausage for his meal. The coach didn't smile when he sat. Instead he had a stack of papers beside him wedged between a metal clip. He barely greeted him.

As Tezuka was beginning to eat though, Coach set his attention on him. "Did you call him last night?" he asked. Tezuka swallowed what he was eating.

"I did" he didn't wish to get into any specific detail on the matter. It all still bewildered him.

"Well, you did the right thing" he said, "I know it can be hard to apologize but that just makes it something that only strong people can do" he smirked.

"Yeah" Tezuka replied. It was a generic thing to for the coach to say despite Tezuka agreeing with him. He really didn't want to dwell on it. The coach seemed to notice his expression but didn't ask about it, instead Tezuka was the one to ask a question.

"Coach. Would you mind if I asked you how you know Atobe?" He didn't feel like waiting around until he and Atobe met up again to ask. Atobe said it was a secret, but he seemed to be being strangely flirtatious. He doubted it was actually something sworn to secrecy.

"Not at all. I wasn't always a tennis coach. When I met him, I was actually a physical therapist and counsellor", he said. It wasn't surprising and yet he _was_ surprised. "When Keigo came over to Germany last year, he came to the rehabilitation center that I worked for at the time", he answered. Tezuka wasn't disappointed by the answer. It just seemed like the most rational option. Not the secret Atobe made it out to be.

Then something occurred to Tezuka, "So when you met him, he had already spent a year injured. What brought him to Germany?" he asked. He didn't know if Germany had better treatment than Japan for rehabilitation.

"If I recall correctly, he wanted a breath of fresh air from school. He didn't go on about it but that was fine. But on another note-" he said, patting the thick stack beside him, "I have something for you." He pushed it forward. Tezuka took it from him and saw the cover-page of a script. The pit of his stomach deepened.

"I'm going to need you to memorize that" the coach said.

Looking it over, the script was ridiculous. _What is this?_ He pondered the question as he flipped through the pages. He lifted his eyes from it to the coach's.

"Filming starts in a month. Try practicing them sometime" He smirked as he leaned back into the chair. He seemed amused by this despite knowing Tezuka's feelings on it. Not that it mattered, he did sign the papers for it so even though he would rather take a short trip off a bridge, it didn't matter. He would just have to preserver. He has done that in the past and he will do it now.

As he sat there in a renewed sense of determination, the presence of his cellphone in his pocket became physical to him. He suddenly remembered that he had a message. Now would be a reasonable time, better than looking at the unbearable script.

As he peeked at it under the table, he clicked through to the message. All he read was the name of the sender. Fuji. It made him curious. Fuji rarely contacts him. Regardless, he didn't read the message, rather he put the phone back in his pocket. He was a little preoccupied as the burden of the acting venture he was about to be on, worried him.

Also, his training would be beginning soon. The coach didn't waste much time during their run telling Tezuka his personal tips and tricks for acting. Apparently, he, besides from being a track star in high school, was also an actor-the lead actor. Somehow Tezuka didn't buy that.

His mind drifted elsewhere in the meantime, somewhere much more obscure. Through the routine, he simmered there. He didn't read through the entire script in the car, but it was something appalling. A bit too sappy for his taste. Either way, he was going to do it and he was going to do his best. He may even look fondly on the memory from his throne as the best tennis player to ever live.

He doubted it though. Sincerely doubted it.

As the burnt sun came creeping in, Tezuka packed his tennis bag. Training had already ended and he didn't plan on remaining in his room. It was sunset when he left the hotel. He went to the only place he knew he could look the entire thing over without feeling pressured or trapped in his room.

When he came to the old clay court, it was empty. The red clay almost burned orange beneath his sneakers as he retreated to a bench. He probably would practice a bit while he was there. Sitting, he peeled back the cover-page of the script. He's not in the beginning, Elard narrates and talks with some children about the "totally cool-tastic" new specials being added to the Kid's Hour.

_Cool-tastic?_ If that wasn't an indicator of the level of pandering to current trends, then the next part was. _What is that? Some foe has appeared! _Elard is supposed to yell and then use his electric _mousey-mouse_ abilities activate and he sends a nearby tennis ball flying with his _Metal-Tail _while shouting, "Ela-_Elard_!"

Tezuka almost dropped the script. He knows Pokemon is quite popular world-wide but that was the most blatant, shameless, lazy, copy-right infringing, sell-out-mimic Pikachu he had ever had the displeasure of witnessing. To think that he would not only have to witness this but to _participate_ in it was almost too much. He swallowed his bile and continued.

He was barely able to read the next words, not only from a crippling-case of cringe, but from the pair of hands that had covered his eyes. Tezuka is not the type to respond immediately to that sort of behavior, but he was the type to sit in anguished silence waiting for the mystery fool to remove their hands.

"Hmm. Miss me?"

Tezuka sighed inwardly. Of all people, at least it wasn't some burly man with some dark motive. He could easily recognize the voice, the click of the tongue.

"Remove your hands, Atobe."

Rather, he could hear him whisper in his ear, "How'd you know it was me?"

"Because I can recognize your voice" he said, "Now, let go" He heard Atobe groan from behind him as he withdrew his fingers. He drug his fingers along his skin as he did it. It was somewhat strange and Atobe dropped his hands on his shoulders and leaned in so Tezuka could see him as he turned his head.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked.

Tezuka could ask the same thing. The last person he was expecting when he came to the courts was Atobe. He knew that, despite the fake leg, that he would walk just fine and that Atobe was not confined to the café, but he truly did not expect to see him again.

He didn't answer, instead asking why Atobe was there. To which he just walked out from around the bench and sat beside him. Tezuka, making sure that Atobe was sitting the designated seven inches or more distance, skimmed a hand over the script.

"I usually take a run down here every day around this time" he said.

_Are you still seeing Kolman?_

Tezuka recalled Coach's words over breakfast. Without saying much, he figured it was a part of physical therapy. He stole a glance downwards towards the prosthetic. He didn't want Atobe to see him doing it so Tezuka disguised it as a sweeping glance over the courtyard. What he didn't see in his sweep was Atobe's hand preparing to move.

He felt the script snatched from his lap.

"What's this?" he said, looking over the cover. Atobe reading the title deflated Tezuka from retrieving it. "_Elard's Electric World. Season Two, Episode 1: Samurai Tezuka_" He was only silent for a moment before launching himself into laughter.

"_'Samurai Tezuka'_?"

Tezuka felt his eye twitch in irritation. Atobe didn't have to be so verbal about his lack of sensitivity. This was a humiliation on Tezuka's part.

"What is all this? I know you are on the channel occasionally but now you're on some TV show?"

Tezuka sat still, hoping to take the script back as Atobe pulled it out of his reach. He watched it with intent, waiting for a good moment to strike.

"This is gold" Atobe suddenly stood from the bench, out of Tezuka's reach. The fatal flaw in the plan.

"'Tezuka is that _you_?' You look quite dashing in your kimono!'" he read. He had his hand to his chest in admiration and spun on his heel to where Tezuka was.

Tezuka shook his head as Atobe wagged his eyebrows, he knew where this was going.

"'Tezuka! Is that _youuuu_?"

"Atobe-"

"'Are you here to play tenn-'" Atobe suddenly snickered, "'tennis with me?'" he composed himself. Tezuka didn't know what was so funny until he read the action line. He watched as Atobe's lips quivered as his eyes scanned the lines.

"_'Tezuka pulls out his tennis racket-katana and holds out the racket head facing Elard'_" he laughed. His head rolled back as it rocked him. He put weight onto the prosthetic foot. Tezuka watched as it supported him. He had never seen a prosthetic up close. Atobe must have noticed him staring because he raised his leg and lifted the pantleg of his track pants.

"Distracting?"

Tezuka feared the repercussions for his prying eyes. Atobe just extended his leg out to the bench. Resting his foot between Tezuka's knees, Tezuka could see the silver tube coming from his shoe through the underside of his pants.

"Like it? You may have to get one one-day you know"

Tezuka didn't believe him. Still, he swallowed dry. Atobe seems to have figured it out for the most part. He can walk around alright. His tennis skills have faltered far beyond just _rusty_. Tezuka didn't want to really consider the possibilities if he ever needed one. He wasn't so arrogant to believe it could never happen to him. It could. And that made him uneasy.

"'Yes, I would love to play a match, but I've come because I heard that the Kid's Hour is now showing all-new sports anime!'" Tezuka felt the spine of script split his hairline. Atobe still held it snickering.

"Do you really have to say all this?" he asked. Tezuka wasn't too happy to say yes. It was easy enough for Atobe to laugh, after all, he didn't have to worry about his reputation. He didn't have to go on camera and project a false persona that everything was just peachy-keen when he really was about to vomit from the sheer level of stupidity of the scenarios in the series. He did look ahead. He knew about the "epic" tennis battles amongst the cherry blossoms or sushi eating on a green-screen mount Fuji. Let's not forget the episode dedicated to Feng Shui. Tezuka's brow twitched when he read that. Feng Shui isn't even Japanese, it's Chinese. Not that it makes a difference to them. They both have slanty eyes anyways.

"Well this shouldn't be too hard. You definitely are handsome enough for television, too bad it's only a kid's channel" Atobe said, lifting the script. He moved in beside him, not adhering to the sacred seven rule. His thigh was nearly touching Tezuka's as he asked if there was another script.

When Tezuka asked why, Atobe just sighed with a smile, "I'm going to practice with you"

Tezuka didn't know about that. He already felt his face flush just by Atobe _reading_ the lines. He didn't want to join him. Also, he had never acted before and didn't want to try it in front of the _fabulous _Atobe. Even reading the lines as a joke, there was a decent amount of believability in his voice. Mainly, it was too embarrassing to act these things out.

Atobe had leaned in and placed a hand on one side of the scrip. Tezuka's was on the other. With Atobe so close beside him, it felt like his presence was invading him. He could smell the thick cologne he wore that in all reality probably cost more than Tezuka's previous tournament winnings.

"I will be… Elard. Now watch me and be in awe of my prowess"

"Atobe, I never said I would do this"

"'Tezuka, is that you?'"

Was Atobe deaf? Or just blissfully ignorant of Tezuka's wishes?

"Atobe I told you aready-"

"'Are you here to play tennis with me?'"

"'Yes, I would love to play a match" Tezuka muttered, sighing deeply. There was no getting out of this, "'but I've come because I heard that the Kid's Hour is now showing all-new sports anime'"

"No-" Atobe shushed him as he said the last line, "You did it wrong. You forgot to pull out your racket-katana" Atobe made gestures of unsheathing some deadly weapon. No way. Tezuka was not doing that. Atobe made the gestures again.

This time he held out and left Atobe sighing in disappointment. He leaned back with a hand on Tezuka's shoulder. Having Atobe so close made Tezuka a little strange. He wasn't so comfortable with physical contact and it made him anxious but did find the smell and sight of him alluring.

He tried to ignore it all.

"Fine" Atobe rolled his eyes, "What's the next line?" Atobe asked. Tezuka just tilted the script towards him. Atobe looked over before saying the next lines.

Playing the part of Elard was quite fitting considering Atobe's flamboyant attitude. Elard was always had the 'full of life' exterior that Atobe exuded so easily. Tezuka has never had strong zest for life. He found himself even a bit envious of him. Tezuka has goals, yes, and he enjoyed being out in nature, rock climbing or fly fishing, but it didn't seep through his pours like Atobe's did.

Still, He found himself at odds with his television persona. By the exterior, it was a carbon copy. Went to Seigaku, won the nationals as the captain, travelled across the globe on a grant to be trained in Germany, featured on television as an up and coming tennis star. Soon he began acting on Camera. First in commercials and then made cameos for sketches on the Sports Channel.

He seemed happy, teaching the kids how to swing a racket during Kid's Hour. His mouth certainly was smiling. He even danced with Elard on a moment's notice during the public broadcasting of the channel's community banquet. This Tezuka was a pleasure to be around.

He is the spitting image of the Tezuka that went to Seigaku, rode to nationals passing the piller to Echizen. The Tezuka that worried that the grant he received wouldn't cover the travel and living expenses for surviving in a foreign country. The Tezuka that was nervous to be sponsored by the sports channel because of its tendency to push for appearances on their channel. The Tezuka who was horrified to know that he would act in skits alongside Elard on the Kid's Hour. The Tezuka that understood the benefits of networking but feared the social consequences.

He was nothing like Atobe, who could play such a humorous role and still be taken seriously. Not that his tennis can be taken too seriously now. Tezuka subconsciously eyed the prosthetic again. His eyes rolled over the smooth material. Atobe had stopped talking and when Tezuka lifted his gaze to him he saw Atobe's eyes focused intently on him, his hand positioned smoothly over his expression with his fingers between his eyes.

He knows that stance._ Insight. _

Atobe didn't wait long, seemingly not concerned with Tezuka noticing him, to lower his hand and smirk close to Tezuka. He didn't say anything in response to this. He wasn't unnerved, barely curious as to what he must've seen.

"It's getting late" Atobe said, moving to face the buildings that obscured the setting sun. His expression was more relaxed than it had been. "We should meet to do this again sometime", he said and laughed.

Tezuka wasn't too sure if he would necessarily want to look at the lines again. But he made a pact with himself and if becoming a current laughing stock will bolster his career and launch him closer to his goals then he is willing to sacrifice his pride.

Atobe seems to know more about acting. He probably would be a useful partner, he thought as he stood from his seat. Atobe was standing beside him.

"I need to finish my run now or…", he trailed off, zipping his jacket up halfway. As he was preparing to head off, Tezuka rode an urge and stepped towards him.

"Thank you for today, Atobe. And thank you for accepting my apology", he said. Atobe rolled his eyes into that arrogant smirk.

"'Accepting my apology'? Hmm? Did you think I was so petty that I would be sulking over that?", he turned to him, "Tezuka, you still don't seem to know me so well"

Well, maybe Atobe was right about that. Atobe reached a hand out and dropped it on Tezuka's shoulder. The sudden contact made him still and he waited for Atobe to make the next move. His fingers gripped lightly on the curve of his shoulder.

"Let's meet up and do this again", was all he said. Rather than just lifting his hand off his shoulder, he drug his palm down it and played with the collar of Tezuka's shirt with his fingers as he released.

Tezuka didn't respond but it was dully noted.

Atobe spun on his heel and cocked his head back over his shoulder. Tezuka was struck by his spirited expression and fetching physique. He could have been a model. Not that that option is readily available now.

Atobe tipped his cellphone in his hand to show him it. "Don't be too shy to call me by the way", he said. Without the intention to, he nodded in response.


End file.
